Force Patterns
by nosmaeth
Summary: All are part of a greater design, wrought by the Force. A collection of one-shots, featuring all sorts of characters from all worlds. 100 prompts challenge.
1. Similar Minds

_Obi-wan muses about Ashoka Tano and Anakin._  
 _(Yoda mused once about Kenobi and Anakin.)_

* * *

 **Similar Minds** (Prompt 1: Fire)

The girl had low inhibitions, and her bright Force presence exploded over and over like fireworks, giving him a headache. Her enthusiasm was difficult to handle.

She was untrained, unprofessional, full of raw things, full of unrefined abilities and undecided motives. Reminded him strongly of his former padawan, who was now in charge of this girl. That thought worried him.

 _Why would you guard flames with fire? Surely that was not wise?_

 _/-/_

He did not want to let one boy train the other. He was such a promise to the Order and such a brash, young kid, after such a horrible loss.

Maybe it was a mistake to allow Jinn to teach Kenobi. Dooku had been interested as well at the time, and that would have meant discipline. Being trained by Qui-gonn just meant vivid pain, it seemed.

(There was no pain.) There was however a deep, slow sigh.

Yes, Kenobi was more calculated perhaps than his master had been, but he was explosive too. Like Jinn. Like this young Skywalker _._

 _Nonsense, it was. Guard fire with flames, I would surely not._


	2. Vocation

_Vokara Che (who later became a famed Twi'lek Chief Healer of the Jedi Temple) is a young padawan learner, experiencing the extent of turbulent emotions of sentient beings for the first time._

* * *

 **Vocation** (Prompt 21. - Stealing)

From here, the young girl could see everything that happened down below. Under the clear glass ceiling of the Galactic Mall of Corusant, the mass of people bustled on about chatting, laughing, arguing, fighting...  
She watched this distant version of life, enraptured by it. Everything that happened here, she absorbed.

The thoughts, the love, the lust… all those things that swirled, unguarded in the Force, they filled her now, fueled her. Her own Force presence brightened by the minute, until her disguise failed, without her even noticing it.

'Che.'

'I am sorry, master.'

Mace Windu furrowed his brows.

'You haven't done anything wrong, child.'

'They… They fill me up, Master. I know they shouldn't, but… These things… these _emotions_ , they empower me.' She was raised in the Temple since she was but a baby. She barely had a name for the things she experienced now.

'Do you, yourself feel them as well?'

'I don't,' she said dutifully, with barely perceptible regret. _Love must be lovely to feel._

'Become a healer then,' he told her with a faint smile. 'All these creatures, they give away emotions freely, you know. To them, feeling is not something they intend to control or discipline. The Force bids you to hear them. That is not a sin.'

She knew that, so she nodded.

There was no sense in trying to explain to him, that it still felt like theft.


	3. Hierarchy

_An anonymous master and padawan get attracted to each other on both a physical and an emotional level._

* * *

 **Hierarhy** (Prompt 60: Hierarchy)

It was a risky idea, and they knew it from the beginning. Master and apprentice shared a special bond. A bond that was a gamble in itself: it was both a gateway and a barrier to the Force. Love was difficult and dangerous to navigate; it opened the greatest swirling, dangerous depths, it awoke passion and possession, blinding the soul to the purity of the Force.

He was powerful and agile, and he cared deeply.

She was empowered and empathic and pleasing to the eye.

She was fierce whilst he was calculatedly lethal.

They were a storm to reckon with.

(There had always been an unbound danger to nature's elements. No Jedi had ever been known to control the weather.)

/-/

They knew it was dangerous to begin with; master and apprentice shared a special bond.

He was a father-figure and a playmate, a mentor and a confidant. The priest she confessed to, the injured brother she rescued and nursed back to health.

(She knew it then, felt it then on Generis, that strange tension in the Force, that pull in her gut. He was stripped naked before her as she tended to him, and for a while she focused on her task, filled with worry and gnawing apprehension, but then he woke up as her hands slid up against his skin, and the Force roared with something she had no name for.)

/-/

They knew it was dangerous to begin with; master and apprentice shared a special bond.

She was a sister and a daughter, a patient and a healer. A pupil and a teacher. She annoyed and inspired, exhausted and encouraged him.

(He knew that they were lost, then on Generis. He knew it because he shielded his awareness just to see how she would do, but she touched him and his focused shifted, his control slipped, and the Force roared with something he was afraid to name.)

/-/

She switched between uncertain and overconfident; she had not yet grown into her abilities. She had not the necessary faith in the Force (or her own insight.)

She trusted him instead.

(But what if he suggested something that was… that _surely had to be_ against the Code?)

/-/

He had crystal logic and still had always been deeply in tune with the Living Force.

He trusted his instincts unwaveringly because that was what he had been raised to do. Ask no questions, have faith in the Force.

(But what if the Force prompted something that was… that _surely had to be_ against the Code?)

/-/

They knew it was dangerous to begin with.

To be an apprentice required absolute submission.

To be a master granted absolute power.

They knew… and yet they did not see it going to their heads quite this fast.


	4. Grief

_Vokara Che (the Healer) pushes Obi-Wan Kenobi to deal with the aftermath of the death of Qui-Gonn Jinn._

* * *

 **Grief** \- (Prompt 42: Anatomy)

To learn is to delve deeper into the unknown.

In order to find the source of a problem, first we have to be familiar with the system. I learned this long ago, when I was yet an apprentice healer, deeply appalled by the dissections we had to visit every week. I learned to accept this method of study eventually, but with some hidden resentment always lingering behind. This path to healing seemed unfavourably crude.

As I sat with the young knight in the gardens now, I suddenly saw it in a different light. Dissection was necessary in order to find the flawed piece. All creatures of the Force were inherently deep, and vastly complex. Cutting to the core was usually the only way to succeed.

'What is wrong?' I asked and there was such a strong Force-suggestion behind those words that Obi-Wan had to grit his teeth to hold his mental shields in place.

'There is nothing wrong,' he answered verbally, and mentally he added 'There is only the Force.'

 _Denial._

The insistent beating down of my inquisitive powers on the gates of his consciousness was becoming rather irksome to him, I could tell. Still, I was not known for giving up. (Neither was he.)

'Do not lecture me, I am not your new-found apprentice. And lying ill becomes a Jedi.'

Had he not been Kenobi, had he not been always perfectly polite, master of the Force and more so the master of himself, he would have answered. 'Get the kriff out of my head.'

 _Anger._

Instead he smiled and tried to negotiate. His unsettling blue eyes glinted with humour and challenge, preparing for combat. Apparently mental games were enjoyable to him.

'Admittedly I am a bit restless as of late. Nothing that I can't handle though. I, and all others I am sure, admire and value your unique set of skills, Master Che, but I am afraid you are wasting your inimitable capacities on me.'

 _Bargaining._

Ever the honeyed-tongue. As if my ears had not long been attuned to irony.

'Do not stall, youngling. You are in pain. Your master died.'

'There is no death.'

This time however, the answer was not the equivalent a calculated saber-action, but a reflex-mechanism. The mantra was practiced and I could tell we were one step closer to truths. The automated defensive action meant that simple facts bypassed his mental shields.

 _'_ _He is incapable of fending off truth,_ ' I realized with a sense of admiration. But I pressed on nonetheless.

'And yet, he died.'

'He became one with the Force.' Another automated response, absolutely devoid of conviction.

To him, the Force was a hollow place now, entirely without comfort. Entirely without Qui-Gonn Jinn.

(Was it wise, this bonding of master and padawan? It always bred so much pain.)

'He died. You are hurt.' Again, the bare truth. This course of action seemed to work, and I was not about to abandon a successful procedure.

'I am not hurt.' This time, it was not denial. To him, his pain was inaccessible.

 _Depression._

'Qui-Gonn Jinn is dead.' (Persisting. With the scalpel against the skin, with the Force against the mental resistance of the patient, with the truth against all defensive mechanisms of the soul… )

He looks at me and cringes visibly and those blue eyes are turbid and confused now, and he looks away and gasps 'Master'.

Because there is the Force, yes, but there is pain here, abundant pain; and all mental shields and dams of discipline are gone, carried away by this flood of grief.

'I am hurting.'

There is guilt in his voice, because he knows he is not supposed to, because he was raised to let go, to have no possession, no attachment, because he was raised to believe the lie that there was no pain, only the Force.

(The Force was Pain.)

'Good.' I said, surprising myself. He sought absolution, and I refused to give it.

'For now, that is enough.'

'I should accept.'

'Yes.' I nodded and stood up. 'In time.'

I answered with a soft smile.

Cutting to the core meant the wound would not fester, all traces of purulence gone.

'You are where you need to be, Kenobi. Acceptance will come. In time.' And since this time he was vulnerable and unprepared, my Force suggestion overpowered his resistance.

You never leave a wound reopened, but always apply salve to the scarred tissues.

'Rest is vital, Master Kenobi. Your young apprentice shall not find you here.'

And with a final push, young Obi-Wan was asleep under the shade of the Corellian apple tree.

* * *

 _In addition to this story you should probably know that the word 'anatomy' (coming from ancient Greek) originally means something like 'to cut up'._


	5. Mutual

Vokara Che and Master Kenobi at it again. Set a few weeks after "Grief". Slightly different narrative.

* * *

 **Mutual** (Prompt 67: Failed Attempt)

 _She remembered her first healing trance she attempted as an Apprentice Healer. She was to ease the girl's pain enough to let her Midichlorians heal her._

'Master Che!'

'Master Kenobi!' Her eyes were attuned to the subtle flinch of his body; he resented the title of master. So, discreet as always, she spoke:

'You do not seem accustomed to the name.'

'It was a sudden change. Others prepare for it for months and complete a trial.'

 _She remembered the young Zabrak girl, barely a padawan, barely out of the creché. She was burned horribly. Had she not been a Jedi learner, she would not have survived the journey to the Temple._

 _(Being Force-sensitive just meant prolonged suffering.)_

'True. That is not the reason though, is it? You resent being called a Master.'

He looked at her with his version of an annoyed frown, barely a crease between his eyebrows, really, but she could tell. His former master may have adored the healers, but he certainly did not manage to have this lesson ingrained into his padawan. Kenobi had an intense dislike for her kind, and she sensed it.

'I don't deserve the name.'

At least he no longer tried to lie or side-step the question. He grew in her eyes each time they met.

 _She remembered all the she had put into it, all the effort it took, all the passion it took... (Though passion did not exist.)_

'You were not the reason he died.'

Clean-cut, clean breaks. She never knew how to be gentle.

'I failed to get to him.'

 _The girl never got to the trance._

'He failed to survive the fight.' She corrected.

 _She died in her arms._

'And that Sith killed your master. Not you.' She added plainly.

'I…'

'Your apprentice needs you _Master_ Kenobi!' She cut in, putting deliberate emphasis his the title. 'Stop obsessing over your worthiness and go be useful.'

She had no time to pamper his wounds and indulge his self-blaming tendencies.

 _She attempted to resign from the position of Healer the day after that._

 _Master Yoda hit her on the head with his stick and promptly told her „no"._


	6. Skywalker

**Skywalker** (Prompt 62: I am Flying)

There was something exhilarating about it. As if this was ultimately his destiny, as if all the questions and worries and anxieties _(because afraid, he was not)_ were left behind, forgotten on that sand covered, Force-forsaken planet that he had long ago abandoned himself. There was nothing left for him there. _(Gaping, hungry nothing.)_

But here, he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins, he felt an unbound power unraveling inside, he felt as if he did not even need this tool he was using…

'I have a bad feeling about this…' chimed his comm-link.

But Obi-Wan always had. For some unfathomable reason.

This was just fun.

And he took his time enjoying the end of the ride as his delta spun around on General Grievous' ship with a mad screeching sound…


End file.
